This is a fun graphic that was part of a tutorial that was created yesterday.  I feel that now my computer has been replaced, software reloaded and new skills learned, this graphic may be my new, maybe brief mantra.  To create images, graphics and photo illustrations so that they be printed with ink and viewed.  I like the thought of following this path!

     This Q&R has been rolling around inside my head for about as long as I have been tinkering with the graphic.  The image was fighting me, resisting coming into existence, so I put it away for a while.  I would bring it out and back up, start again, brush, layer, effects, duplicate, move, load and then, then I would put it away again, only doing what I could at the moment as I couldn't do it all just then.
     So, I did what I could, as I couldn't do it all.
     I will fix what I can, as I can't fix everything.
     I will save those that I can, as I can't save everyone.
     I will do what I am able to, as I can't do it all.
     I will rescue what I can, but I can't rescue everything and everyone.
     If I rescue me, I will rescue us.

     If you rescue yourself, you will rescue me.

     My highest self is peculiar as it sends me messages in the strangest ways.  Today, it let me notice a bumper sticker that gave me today's message--

    

Seduction to Destruction

Comparing and contrasting Aspen, Colorado and Provincetown, Massachusetts via photos and interviews pointing out the amazing similarities in the two destination resorts as they both struggle to maintain and even survive.

Millions of people are seduced by the natural resources that surround Aspen, Colorado in the west and Provincetown, Massachusetts in the east. Siren calls attract folk like the Mailers, the O'Neils, Hawthornes and Henches along with the Pfeiffers and Paepkes, and even Joe-the- plumber types. Everyone drawn to these places has had a promising vision for their life in their respective town. But their visions are melting into air, or at least radically changing, because of greed, politics, buy-and-flip real estate deals, and more. Contemporary booms of various kinds are busts. And the quality of life in these disparate towns is getting further diminished every year in surprisingly similar ways.

This "Seduction to Destruction" project would showcase portraits and quotes from interviews with those who call Aspen or Provincetown "home," for better or worse. I would capture the quality-of-life issues folk in both towns share (i.e., affordable housing, health care, year-round employment, education). I would photograph and interview common worker bees as well as city leaders. I also would photograph the ever increasing "homeless" and, the newest class, the transient homeless in Aspen and Provincetown.

I envision "Seduction and Destruction" would include opening shots of each town with large format photographs, have candid portraits, street shots, video interviews on screen, and archival photos showing a bit of each town's history/people-side-by-side to underscore similarities-and show people in settings that subtly underscore what the towns have in common. A piece of the project could also be broadcast live over the web with interactive web cams so people from each town could talk and interact with the other.

People who either visit or live in towns that cater to tourists, especially, might be intrigued with candid perspectives of these towns' residents. Other people who simply struggle with tough economic times, wherever they live, might find relevance in my "Seduction to Destruction" project.

Being a citizen of Aspen for decades, but also having fallen in love with the Cape over the past years, I've been seduced.
I work for Pitkin County government now, have many friends in Provincetown, and I am in an excellent position to photograph and put together "Seduction to Destruction." It would involve a fair amount of traveling and time to interact with people in both areas during high seasons and low seasons. For example, Provincetown nearly becomes a ghost town in winter while Aspen is usually packed with tourists in the winter. Even so, the time, travel and results would be my "dream assignment."

     If any of my Gaia friends would like to help make this dream photographic assignment come true for me, follow the link, read my essay, and if you feel it's worth making it come true, take a few minutes to register, then go back to my essay and vote for it by clicking on the yellow button that says, PICS.  Comments left also help to raise my score.  There scores of other great ideas and dreams, read them as well and help others make their dreams come true!  Thanks.

     http://nameyourdreamassignment.com/the-ideas/Geo/seduction-to-destruction/

     I have submitted a plan for a dream assignment at http://www.nameyourdreamassignment.com/the-ideas/Geo/the-greatest-lake-but-for-how-long/ 
     My dream assignment would be to solo circumnavigate the greatest lake of them all, Lake Superior.  I would photographically document the changes, the effects and affects of the changing climate around the largest lake by area and to its inhabitants and denizen both two legged and four.  If you have some time, log onto the site, register (it's free) and check out not only my idea, but the hundreds of other worthy ideas that are found there.  If I can garner enough votes, I may have a chance at a dream assignment.  So, if you have seen some of my photos and read some of my blogs, think about a vote for Geo!

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I have had this piece on CD for some time, and it draws me into a special place each time I listen to it.  And, conversely, I have to be in a special place first, to place the CD into my player, then sit back and let the music, the words, and the images wash over me, drawing out emotions not felt in a while, a bit of a cleansing, too.
Laura posted this video, and it makes the piece even more powerful and piercing for me.
Get quiet, and listen to this piece and maybe find and view the whole movie.



     The third movement of the piece, not heard here, is a folk song in which a mother laments the loss of her soon, whose body she now seeks, the insistent ostinato of the orchestra, pointing a melodic line of the greatest simplicity.  The symphony ends with an expression of hope, allowing the boy, killed by cruel enemies, to rest in peace, lulled by God's song-birds and surrounded by the flowers of God.

     Back home from a typical Friday night out and about.  Finally getting around to pulling more photos from my camera.  No real sunset tonight as it was gray and moody with blustery March winds whipping around the valley.  Fun to see the elk and mule deer hanging about nibbling on the wee bits of greening grass, though.

     Working today, well into the night, taking a break and looking at some photos taken at around 6 this evening.  I was on Watson Divide Road, one of the decidedly more rural routes around here, but it affords a great view of Mount Sopris, about 30 miles away from where I stopped to watch the light show in the western sky.
    Every now and again, I am in the right place, at the right time, and can afford to stop and take in the view for a few minutes.  Man, is that an important part of my sanity.  Remember to stop and eat the roses, as my dad used to say.
     So, literally on the side of a twisting dirt road overlooking the Snowmass Creek Valley gazing west, I had a 15 minute show as a cool front blew in, making clouds.  The sun, clearly wanted to herald its brief departure and the newcomer clouds, so it painted them the best way it knew how, with beams of love and light.
     So, here are just the first three, as we have some excitement going on here, meaning boredom for us and a huge nuisance for other, but there will be more to follow.  I snapped 18 photos as I stood in place, pointing my camera and simply shooting what appeared over the valley.  Nice.
     So, enjoy what we call here, "Just another crummy day in Paradise!"

     This is an addendum to Synonym for Lights photo of the young aspen tree clinging to the face of the rock wall up Independance Pass, defying all odds by making it.
     I always appreciate and wonder at the unbelievable places that trees, shrubs and plants will find to survive. 
     If you drive between Laramie and Cheyenne, you will see a a limber pine growing right out of a boulder -




Buford, Wyoming- Tree in the Rock

A roadside marker says it all:

"This small pine tree that seems to be growing out of solid rock has fascinated travelers since the first train rolled past on the Union Pacific Railroad. It is said that the builders of the original railroad diverted the tracks slightly to pass by the tree as they laid rails across Sherman Mountain in 1867-69. It is also said that trains stopped here while locomotive firemen 'gave the tree a drink' from their water buckets. The railroad moved several miles to the south in 1901 and the abandoned grade became a wagon road.

"In 1913 the Lincoln Highway Association was formed 'To procure the establishment of a continuous improved highway from the Atlantic to the Pacific.' The Lincoln Highway was an instant success in a nation enamored with the newfangled automobiles and eager for a place to drive them. The Lincoln passed right by Tree Rock as did U. S. 30 in the 1920s and Interstate 80 in the 1960s. At this place the road was approaching the 8,835-foot Sherman Summit, the highest point on the Lincoln. The view of the surrounding mountains was like nothing that west-bound easterners had ever seen. Still, they noticed the little tree, which became the favored subject of many early postcards and photographs. It still is. "The tree is a somewhat stunted and twisted limber pine (Pinus flexilis), a type of tree commonly found in this area where ponderosa and limber pines dominate the landscape. The age of the tree is unknown, although limber pines can live as long as 2,000 years. The tree grows out of a crack in a boulder of Precambrian era pink Sherman granite formed more than 1-4 billion years ago." [Chuck Rhode, 07/12/2007] 
     The photo above was taken here in the Roaring Fork Valley and is of an Englmann spruce eking out a life on solid granite.  Its roots cling to the rock mere inches from water where it pools, yet the tree lives on.  I have no idea how old it is, but given our short growing season and its meager home, probably over a hundred years old.
      This is a regular spot for me to visit and marvel at the spruce and I don't think I have seen it change in the decades that I have visited it.
     A good reminder, I guess, for me that no matter what, hang on, persist, don't let go no matter how long it takes.